


Animum

by kingseijuro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blood and Gore, Brutal Murder, Character Death, Crime Scenes, Detective Matt (Voltron), Detective Shiro (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Horror, M/M, Murder Mystery, Serial Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingseijuro/pseuds/kingseijuro
Summary: A string of murders has broken out across the sprawling suburbs of Altea, inciting local panic. It's up to APD's best detective, Takashi Shirogane, and his partner, Matt Holt, to find the culprit and put an end to the violence.





	Animum

**Author's Note:**

> This project has been a long work in the making. I can't thank my friends enough for the support and help I've gotten during writing this fic, especially my amazing beta reader Hadar. You can find her on Tumblr and AO3 as @somegoodsheith, and Twitter as @HadarSheith! 
> 
> Thank you all so so so much, you know who you all are<3

The detective’s fist bounced against the worn out door. His knuckles ached in the cold, the collision only adding to the soreness as it vibrated the bone. There was a bite to the air that gave him goosebumps, breath coming out hot and dissipating in the air. 

 

When there was no reply, a breath huffed through his nose. He closed his eyes to center himself then opened them back up, yelling through the door with another pound of his fist. 

 

“Open up! It's the APD!” he yelled, voice deep as it vibrated in his throat.

 

_ Nothing.  _

 

Shiro sighed as he knocked on the old wooden door one more time for good measures. The house was old, siding starting to peel off and rot. All the lights were off, and all but one of the windows were tightly sealed by wooden boards. 

 

Did someone even live here? They had gotten a noise complaint about screams, but were they at the wrong house? 

 

The questions spiraled through Shiro's mind and before he knew it, his partner, Matt, ran past him and kicked the door down. The door only opened about half way, splintering wood scratching the floorboards and making an almost unbearable screech. The two winced as their shoulders scrunched in response. 

 

Matt eventually straightened out, and a proud smirk curled on his lips as he looked up at Shiro. “Need some h-” he practically choked as he cut himself off, covering his nose with his gloved hand as he looked back inside the house. “Oh my god.” The puff of wind caused from kicking the door open carried the rich stench of nickel outside past the doorway. Blood. It was fresh, too. 

 

Blood was the first thing Shiro and Matt saw as their flashlights shined in the reflection of the metallic puddle a couple feet from the doorway. The wooden door creaked loudly as the two detectives pushed it farther open, causing both of them to flinch from the possible blow of cover. They cautiously stepped into the dark house and onto the dark wooden floorboards. 

 

To their left, there was a kitchen. Simple white counters lined the walls; matching inexpensive appliances sat sparsely throughout the counter space.  To their right, there was a small living room. A plaid couch sat in front of an old styled television, the back of the technology sticking out a decent amount compared to the current days televisions; it was rare to see those nowadays. Both pieces of furniture sat on a large floral square rug. 

 

The light from Shiro's flashlight reflected off golden bars that sat in front of the small couch. Soon enough, his light caught large shards of glass scattered on the rug. A coffee table, golden lining around glass. It was a nice piece when it wasn't shattered at a crime scene. 

 

Shiro carefully stepped around the puddle of blood as he moved closer to the living room. He then noticed a thin, almost transparent coat of liquid crimson on the glass shards as he crouched down to inspect the scene. Miscellaneous shards were stuck into the thick rug and sat up at different angles, some even cutting into another piece of glass and stuck. 

 

Shiro’ s dry lips parted as he let out a deep breath. “Damn... This person was brutal,” he then stood back up, giving one quick sweep of the living room before leaving. 

 

The overwhelming stench of blood filled his nostrils and it caused him to scrunch his nose as he walked around the puddle again, over to his partner who was now in the kitchen. Shiro had never gotten used to the smell, no matter how many murder scenes he’s investigated throughout his career. 

 

He sighed before looking at Matt, eyes immediately turning softer as they locked with his for a moment. “Matt, have you noticed anything?”

 

Matt looked away before he spoke, causing Shiro to pout. “Knife’s missing. Nothing much else I can see, we need forensics,” he couldn't keep his eyes off the hallway and when Shiro turned to look, neither could he. Both of them waited for  _ someone _ to walk down the corridor. Whether it be the killer or the victim, Shiro didn't care, and he was almost certain neither did Matt. 

 

Just please, someone. 

 

“We need to check the house and see if anyone's hiding,” the only response Shiro got was a nod before Matt was stepping to the start of the hallway. The house was one floor, long dark hallway leading to three doors that were fairly spread out. One door was cracked slightly, a sliver of light slipping past the crack and it immediately caught the detectives attention. They both slowly crept toward the door with light feet.

 

The dull, orange tinted light spilled out onto the mahogany floorboards and slipped into rotted cracks as it slowly faded. The door was hanging solely by the upper hinge screwed loosely into the cracked door frame, light peeking from the cracks occasionally as well. 

 

Shiro got an eerie vibe, and immediately thought of the worse. The killer could be in there. Protective as always, Shiro held an arm up against his partners chest. “Matt, stay-” 

 

Matt's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he looked up at Shiro. “No, Takashi, I’m not staying back,” the smaller man immediately interrupted Shiro, and the detective sighed at that. He then opted to stepping ahead of Matt, carefully opening the door the rest of the way and he made his way into the bathroom first. 

 

Blood painted the white tiles, tan wallpaper, and even covered the small lamp in the corner of the room that illuminated the space. The crimson looked orange on the light fabric as the lightbulb glowed through the stain. The overwhelming stench of nickel and burnt flesh caused Shiro to instinctively take a step back, bumping into Matt on accident. A grunt from both men filled the air before they moved away from one another. 

 

“What is it, Takashi?” Matt tried to push past Shiro to see the room, the larger man blocking his sight entirely with his mass alone. 

 

Shiro shook his head to clear his mind before speaking. “Ahh... Just more blood,” he scrunched his nose one last time before stepping more into the room. The room was a complete mess, miscellaneous shampoo bottles scattered around on the floor. Some were even opened, the smoothie-like substance mixing with the thick crimson and scarily looking like blood clots. If it wasn't for the placement of the bottles, the two would of thought it  _ was _ blood clots. 

 

The overwhelming smell of everything started to make Shiro feel nauseated, the feeling building up at his adams apple as the cartridge bobbed with a gulp. He took a deep breath that came out as a shutter as he took everything in. 

 

Shiro must have stared at the scene for a while. “Takashi? The curtains,” Matt's voice quickly snapped Shiro out of his trance, bringing him back to real time as his eyes stayed locked on the blood splattered and smeared on the ice cold tiles. He quickly looked up at Matt, then shifted his gaze to the crumpled dirty curtains, closed and hiding the contents of the bathtub. Blood dripped down the white porcelain and formed a puddle on the tile, the liquid swimming through the cracks till it spread thin. 

 

Shiro slowly made his way over to the bathtub and curled his fist around the curtains tightly. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them back up. A determined glint shone in his eyes, pulling his arm to the side in one swift motion as a sound of metal scratching on metal echoed through the bathroom. A buzz quickly got closer and before Shiro even had the chance to look in the porcelain, he was closing his eyes on instinct and swatting a fly away. 

 

Shiro heard a hitched breath behind him, a gasp soon following. “Holy fuck…”

 

“What? What is--” Shiro opened his eyes, immediately regretting the decision as he looked down into the tub and cut himself off. 

 

Short brown strands of hair floated in a small puddle of blood that sat on the tubs counter. The victim’s head was leaned back against the ledge, thick strands of hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks. The strands were tinted crimson and stiff, dried against her tan skin with a few strands sticking out from the heap. 

 

Her eyes were rolled back slightly in her skull, iris’s a dull blue; life stripped from them and nowhere to be found. Cuts covered the girls body, some deep and the skin split apart. The flesh was rough from the blade, which Shiro quickly recognized as the edge of a kitchen knife. Clumps of white tissue mixed with the deep red of her flesh, blood thin as it dispersed from the tissue then soaked into her deep red flesh. 

 

But her face was untouched. 

 

Shiro immediately crouched down by the victim, grabbing her wrist as he pressed his middle and index finger onto the warm skin. He couldn't feel anything, not a single pulse, no sign of life. The body was still limp as he gently sat her hand back down in the tub. 

 

“No pulse… but she hasn't been dead long,” Shiro sighed as he stood, taking a few steps back from the scene. Flies continued to buzz around the room and he swatted a couple more away. “If we had only gotten here sooner we could have--”

 

Matt was quick to cut Shiro off. “Takashi, no.”

 

“But we--”

 

“Takashi!” Matt stepped over to Shiro, cupping his cheeks in both his palms as he moved the detective’s head to look him in the eyes. 

 

“Takashi…” his voice dipped with calmness, thumb rubbing Shiro's cheekbone. “You know there's nothing we could have done. The best we can do now is figure out who did this and get that girl justice.” 

 

Shiro took a deep breath to calm himself, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against Matt's. “Yeah, you're right…” his voice was low and reluctant as he pulled out of his partners hold and left the room without another word. 

 

———

 

“Hey… Takashi, are you alright?” Matt's breath huffed out as hot hair that rose and dissipated into the crisp air. He slowly sat down next to Shiro on the old wooden bench nailed into the porch of the house. Moonlight reflected off of various surfaces of the porch as the supports created shadows. 

 

Shiro ran a hand through the white fluff of his hair before looking at Matt. “Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I just needed some air.”

 

“Are you sure? I've never seen you this shaken up over a murder case before.” 

 

Shiro looked away, eyes fixating on the rotting cracks of the dark brown wood. “That girl… She looks familiar. I just can't put my finger on it.”

 

“We’ll figure out soon,” Shiro felt a warm hand rub his upper back gently, fingers dancing over his muscles soothingly. “I'm gonna call for backup and forensics.”

 

And just like that, Matt was gone and back inside the house. Shiro ran a hand through the tuft of hair that covered his forehead again. 

 

Matt was right. Shiro was normally calm, analytical and collected at scenes. He's seen murders far more gruesome, and far more gory than this, but the familiarity of the woman's face is what shook him up. 

 

Shiro eventually stood from his seat and walked back inside, stepping around the puddle of blood that still sat in front of the door. It was starting to dry, crimson soaked in the wood and sitting in cracks. It created a rotting smell, nickel still strong in the slight wind that traveled through the door and around the house. 

 

He quickly moved away from the stench as he went into the living room, deciding to analyze the scene closer. It was only then that he noticed a pair of thin framed glasses that tangled in the glass shards of the table. They were half opened, one lense shattered with various sharp edges still in tact around the edge, and the other with a large crack going through the middle.

 

“Glasses… who wore these glasses?” Shiro speculated to himself. They looked familiar, but he still couldn't figure out  _ who _ that woman was. Names ran through his head but none of them sounded right, a sigh eventually slipping past Shiro's lips. 

 

“Forensics is on their way,” Matt called out from the kitchen. Shiro then heard footsteps get closer to where he was, a groan squeezing past clenched teeth as Matt stepped over the puddle. The detective was now crouched down to get a closer look at the shattered glass, palms placed firmly on the surprisingly soft carpet to still himself.

 

Matt tilted his head in curiosity. “Did you find something else?”

 

“Thin framed glasses.”

 

“I'll tell forensics.” 

 

Matt placed a hand on his shoulder, Shiro slowly looking up at his partner. “But Takashi, maybe we should wait outside. They'll find out who it was.” Shiro let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding once Matt's words slipped into the air. 

 

“Yeah… maybe you're right,” He said under his breath before nodding, standing up as he ran a hand through the tuft of his hair. The action started to become a nervous gesture, him doing it without even realizing half of the time. Shiro turned to face Matt, his deep pools of grey staring into pools of warm brown. 

 

“Maybe? I am right, Takashi. I know you well enough to know when you need a break,” Matt chuckled, it infectious as it made Shiro chuckle without a thought. “There's that smile, I was started to miss it.” 

 

Shiro's hand found itself tangled into Matt's hair as he pulled the smaller man closer, nuzzling his nose into his neck. “Thank you,” Shiro's voice was muffled by the clothing covering Matt's shoulder, the rumble of his voice tickling Matt and making him laugh. 

 

“You're welcome, Takashi.”

 

———

 

Warm light filled Shiro and Matt's room as Shiro leaned his head back, head weightlessly sinking into his soft pillow. Goofy space boxers hugged his hips loosely, wearing nothing else as he laid on top of their soft monotone grey comforter. A scent of balsam filled the air, a lit candle sitting on Shiro's bedside table. The smell of the small fir always helped Shiro calm after a long day at work. 

 

He watched Matt undress at the foot of the bed with half lidded eyes, eventually crossing his arms behind his head to get a better view. Shiro was exhausted, eyes heavy as they threatened to close, but Matt's lean, toned frame was too alluring of a sight for him to look away, so he did his best to keep his eyes open as he watched. 

 

Warm brown, long hair curled around Matt's back muscles, strands complimenting them nicely. His hair was still in a ponytail, the fibers wavy as they brushed against his soft skin, and loose strands poked out above the band. It took Shiro everything in him not to get up and pull Matt's thick hair out of the elastic band, and run his fingers through the soft fibers as he burrowed his nose into the warm crook of his neck. 

 

A chuckle soon filled the air as Matt hung up his uniform in their shared closet, causing Shiro to snap out of his slight trance as he looked up from Matt's body and to his face, as the detective turned to face him. His face was soft, and almost as distracting as his body. Shiro loved the small smirk that tugged at the corner of Matt's lips, his warm brown eyes.

 

Everything. 

 

“Enjoying the view?” Shiro blushed at that, it taking him a minute to catch his voice. Even with 4 years of a relationship with Matt under his belt, the man still managed to get him flustered. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it. 

 

Hell, he hoped he never would.

 

“Maybe a little,” Shiro managed a chuckle. 

 

Messy hair from a day's work cupped Matt's cheeks nicely and almost hid the small scar on his cheek. The detective then turned his back to Shiro once again, going into their shared dresser to pull out pajamas and a fresh pair of boxers. Shiro would be lying if he said his gaze didn't immediately drop and hone in on Matt's ass. 

 

“Are you staring at my ass?” a smirk lingered through Matt's tone. 

 

Shiro opened his mouth then closed it again, unable to find his voice for a moment. Once he did, it came out as a panicked stutter. “N-No, I'm not,” Shiro internally cursed at himself. 

 

That  _ definitely _ gave him away. 

 

Matt chuckled again. “Kashi,” he then turned back around, walking to the bed and laying his clothes on the foot of the furniture. He kept his eyes on Shiro the entire time as he got dressed, giving the man a knowing look that he couldn't resist. 

 

“Okay, fine, maybe I was.” 

 

Leave it to Matt to always know what Shiro was up to, even if he couldn't see him. He knew him better than anyone else. After all, they were more than just detective partners. 

 

They were lovers too. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Did you like it? Tell me in the comments! I love hearing from you guys <3


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